


Find

by yeaka



Category: Travelers (TV)
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 04:29:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21191591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Philip sees a cozy possibility.





	Find

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Spoilers for late S2.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Travelers or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The news is exactly the way he remembers it, which is a depressing relief. Whenever it does change, it’s rarely for the better. At least the updates seem to be working. The pills do too, but he tries not to take them unless absolutely necessary. Philip’s all too aware that he just moved from heroin to Faction-made eye drops to Director-sanctioned pills. He’s never _really_ been clean.

Maybe that’s a good thing, because the news reminds him that the twenty-first isn’t built for rational people. The things they let happen to their planet are absurd. He blinks, half expecting the screen to be different when he reopens his eyes. 

It’s not. But he does hear laughter that draws his attention to the battered couch over against the far wall.

At least, it was there last time he looked, and it used to be old and worn down. Now it’s been pulled much closer to his usual station, and it’s been reupholstered in an ugly mustard colour. He’s sitting square in the middle of it, cuddled up against Ray’s shoulder. 

Philip squints, but it’s definitely Ray Green. He hasn’t talked to Ray in weeks. The last time he did, Ray was in an oversized overcoat and had bags under his eyes to put even Philip himself to shame. But this Ray looks happy and healthy, like the Philip that’s leaning against him. They’re both wearing thick sweaters woven through with red and green. A blanket’s draped across their laps, their feet up on a coffee table that Philip’s never seen before. It boasts two piles of seasonal cards and two steaming mugs of brown liquid. Philip could swear he smells hot chocolate, something he only just discovered last week—Trevor came over and made it for him. 

Ray stretches his arm back around the other Philip’s shoulders, and that Philip shakes his head and snuggles closer. He snorts, “We are _not_ writing that.”

“Why not? He doesn’t have a sense of humour?” Ray pushes. That Philip laughs louder. 

“He’d _kill_ me.”

“Hey, you’re signing both our names, right? If it goes sour, you can blame me.”

“I already shouldn’t be bringing you here—let’s not poke the crow’s nest any more.”

“Hornet’s nest. I thought you were supposed to be the smart one.”

The other Philip playfully elbows Ray, who groans and leans his head on Philip’s head, his fingers riffling through Philip’s hair. It looks shinier than usual, smoother, devoid of tangles or split ends. That Philip’s even clean-shaven—the real Philip lifts a tentative hand up to his chin and feels three days worth of stubble.

Ray’s still stubbly, but he’s also grinning and relaxed and looking distinctly more attractive for it than Philip remembers. The Philip on the couch shakes his head and writes something down in the card. Ray reads out, “Best wishes? C’mon, kid, that’s the best you got?”

Apparently so. That Philip leans forward, setting the card down in one pile and retrieving a new one from the other. When he settles back against Ray’s side, Ray turns to whisper something in his ear that has him smiling wide and rolling his eyes, then turning to peck Ray’s cheek. 

Ray kisses him square on the lips, something he leans into, eyes fluttering closed and throat letting out a pleasant moan. When they part, Philip’s eyes are hazy and still on Ray’s mouth. 

Ray tells him, “I’m gonna go feed Poppy.”

Ray sidles out from under the blankets, pushing to his feet. His Philip lifts a brow and says, “You better actually do that and not sneak out to smoke.”

“Hey, I’m quitting for real this time, I promise.”

His Philip doesn’t look so convinced, but he also looks horrendously _fond_. They seem like a cute couple that have everything going for them, like they’ve got it all worked out.

The real Philip doesn’t know how to process that. He blinks, and his doppelganger’s gone. His eyes trace Ray, and halfway to Poppy’s tank, Ray dissipates into the ether. Philip’s alone in the warehouse. 

His phone buzzes, nearly startling him right out of his skin. He checks the texts and sees:

_Hey, kiddo. Got any bets today?_


End file.
